


Feel the Rising Tempo

by interabang



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Romance, Starmora Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 16:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11740758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interabang/pseuds/interabang
Summary: Gamora notices one of Peter's injuries after a battle. Although it's not a fatal wound, it troubles her more than she'd like to admit.





	Feel the Rising Tempo

**Author's Note:**

> I'd place this several months after Vol. 2
> 
> Written for [Starmora Week 2017](http://starmora.tumblr.com/post/162533246103/our-small-ship-has-grown-so-much-in-the-few-short) -> Week 7: Unspoken.

After a particularly harrowing battle, when the last body of their enemies fell thanks to Godslayer, Gamora looked over at Peter, who was several yards away. She watched him scan the rocky terrain for any more threats, and when none appeared or rose from the ground, he turned toward her.

 

She breathed in sharp, smoky air, her heart pounding at an accelerated rate. She sheathed Godslayer as Peter holstered one blaster, then tapped the side of his neck, revealing soft skin where sleek metal once was, and green eyes where glaring red ones shone.

 

Stepping over bodies and holes in the ground caused by Rocket’s explosives, covered in dirt and sweat and things Gamora would rather not dwell on, she walked toward Peter, and he mirrored her movements.

 

Her heart protested against her body mods’ confined regulation. It was  _her_  heart, and it kept beating rapidly as she drew closer to him, the sounds of Drax’s triumphant laughter and Groot’s joyous shouts growing muted in the distance.

 

Gamora stood before Peter, in the aftermath of the fray, and her heart kept on racing.

 

“You good?” he asked, holstering his second blaster.

 

She nodded. Her eyes flicked from his gaze, down to his lips - and then traced a line down to his throat, where there was a small streak of crimson.

 

“You’re bleeding,” she said, and stepped forward to wipe the streak from his neck. She frowned as she examined his blood on her fingers. She had seen him bleed before, but...

 

“How bad is it?” he murmured.

 

She looked up at him, and realized that they were standing so close, she could feel his breath falling, rapidly, onto her cheek. His chest rose and fell in time with his breaths, and the color of his eyes had darkened since she approached him.

 

“It’s not deep,” she said, and turned, heading toward the ship and leaving Peter standing alone, surrounded by the dead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Once they collected their units for taking out the last group of bandits that had been terrorizing a peaceful town on a mostly peaceful planet a few jumps away from Xandar, the Guardians went to the guest quarters that had been provided for them in a small, octagonal-shaped building. The rooms were almost bare, and the warm water didn’t last long, but Gamora was grateful for the grounded, private area of respite.

 

Peter sat on the edge of the bed as Gamora exited the bathroom, cinching her towel shut around her chest. He was still filthy from the battle, removing his boots and quietly groaning with exertion as Gamora approached him.

 

“This isn’t like one of the five-star joints like we’ve stayed at on Xandar, huh?” he asked as he kicked off his second boot.

 

Gamora remembered she wanted to ask him what ‘five-star’ meant from the last, well, five times he said it, but before she could open her mouth, he went on. “I mean, it’s not _bad_ or anything, but —”

 

He looked up at her, and his words caught in his throat.

 

She smiled. She always got a little secretive thrill when she made him look that way at her.

 

“Okay, not really in the mood to complain anymore,” he said, his voice lowered and a bit hoarse as she leaned over him. Instantly, he closed his eyes and angled his head to the side.

 

She reached out her hand and put her fingers on his chin, tilting his head up so she could look at his throat.

 

“What?” Peter asked, cracking open an eye as he sighed in annoyance. “Is it still bleeding?”

 

“No. As I said, the cut wasn’t deep.”

 

“Oh.” Peter opened his other eye. “Then what’s the problem?”

 

Gamora lowered his chin back down, and with one hand holding her towel closed, she lowered herself to her knees.

 

Peter watched her as she settled herself in front of him. It took her a moment to speak, and he waited for her.

 

“It wasn’t deep,” she finally whispered, dragging her gaze from the cut to his eyes, as tears brimmed in hers. “But it was almost too close.”

 

Months ago, he would have looked away, sucked air between his teeth noisily, and made a joke. 

 

Instead, his dark eyes softened, his shoulders slumped a bit, and the creases between his brows smoothed out.

 

“Oh, Gamora,” he said, leaning forward to wrap his arms around her.

 

She raised herself upward and into his embrace as he pressed his lips against the side of her head, once, twice, and then again, fiercely, as her hands wrapped around his back.

 

She ran her fingers up toward his shoulders, and through Peter’s shirt, she could feel his steadily thrumming heartbeat.

 

It was loud and strong, and though it didn’t match her cadence, it beat in adjoining rhythm.

 

Gamora didn’t know how long they sat there like that. She didn’t count the passing time by seconds.

 

Peter’s lips kept pressing into her damp hair as he began to hum one of his new favorite songs from the music player Yondu had left him. The song was slow, and had a simple, repetitive melody, but it was hopeful.

 

She squeezed him more tightly, leaning her face into the crook of his shoulder, sighing softly as she shed tears on his soft skin.

 

Then, when sharp, invisible pins began pricking her legs, Gamora pulled away from Peter, and she held him at arm’s length. He shifted his hands to cup the back of her head, and with his thumbs, he wiped the remaining tears from her eyes.

 

She looked at him as he did so, and then, suddenly, she couldn’t hold back a grin.

 

Slowly, the corner of his mouth lifted. “Now what?” he asked, without any of his former annoyance.

 

“I just got out of the shower,” she said, clutching onto the top of her towel, “and now I’m all dirty again.”

 

He let out a sharp exhale, still looking tentatively amused. “Well, that’s what you get for hugging the dirty guy,” he said before planting another kiss on her forehead.

 

She groaned and rubbed the spot with her free hand. “Peter!” she said, though she was still smiling.

 

“I’m amazed you managed to keep that towel closed for so long, by the way.”

 

She lowered her hand and put it on his shoulder as she lifted herself to her feet. “Amazed, right. I’m sure _that's_ how you really feel.”

 

He remained seated on the bed, his hair still a mess and his face a bit grimy and flushed. He pouted his lips as he looked up at her, and Gamora turned on her heel, heading to the bathroom.

 

She stopped before she got to the door, and sighed. “Fine, let’s get cleaned up together,” she said, feigning irritation.

 

From behind, she heard Peter practically leap off of the bed and over the few steps it took to get to her. Then she felt him slowly, gently, put his arms around her again, hugging her from behind as they stood just outside the door.

 

She complained about how he smelled, but through her protests, she let out another laugh as she pulled him along with her.

 

And her heart began to beat faster.

 

 


End file.
